The year of joy and jubilations,
Marching towards free air from the frozen darkness ,
Marking the end of humiliation, exploitation and annihilation.
History whispered something to her.
It was so feeble.
Decades passed by; generations too.
Ancestors lost years from their life while fighting against foreign goods;
But predecessors added life to years by grabbing them.
Insisting alien funds to quit India was freedom fight;
Inviting funds from abroad is now named development.
Fight for the right to clad breast was revolution;
Right to do away with it now is modernity.
“I shall die, so that thou shall live”, her son inspired.
“You shall die, so that my masters shall live”, her grand son intimidates
History once again whispers something.
Now the voice is not so feeble.
“Your parole is nearing end”.
She for the first time reconciles - it was a parole.
A parole lasted for only five decades ,
After five centuries of trials and tribulations.
Its her destiny.
But she is proud of her sons and daughters who freed her,
Though she keeps mum on her grand children,
Who are known for their ideological jargons.
Still she holds close to her hearts her great grand children,
The heirs of her lost fortunes,
As they burn midnight oil in major cities across the globe
To save her self-respect and dignity with all their might.
Who even sacrifice their youthfulness to add to the pleasures of their elders-
A typical emulation of Rajas of epics.
Let us join them to “ Know India and Be Indian”